NRLF 


TREES  AT  LEISURE 
A.  B.  Corastock 


-  5 
I 


....  IM 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

DAVIS 


GIFT  OF 

FREDERICK  L.   GRIFFIN 


Trees  at  Leisure 


.  S,  Qomstock 


During  its  winter  resting  time,  the  tree  stands 
revealed,  ready  to  give  its  most  intimate 
confidences  to  those  who  love  it. 


TREES  AT  LEISURE 


BY 

ANNA  BOTSFORD  COMSTOCK 


PUBLISHED  BY 

THE  COMSTOCK  PUBLISHING  CO, 
ITHACA,  N.Y. 

1916 


ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 


THE  author    hereby    expresses 
her  appreciation  of  the  cour- 
tesy shown  her  by  Doubleday 
Page  &  Co.  in  permitting  her  to  re- 
print Trees  at  Leisure  from  Country 
Life  in    America,    for  which  it  was 
copyrighted. 

The  author  also  wishes  to  express 
her  thanks  to  Professor  Ralph  W. 
Curtis  for  the  use  of  his  photographs 
of  the  Bird  Cherry,  Black  Locust, 
Lombardy  Poplar,  Tamarack,  White 
Ash,  and  Shagbark  Hickory;  to 
Harry  H.  Knight  for  the  photo- 
graph of  the  Hemlock  bole ;  to  Lewis 
B.  Hendershot  for  that  of  the  White 
Oak;  and  to  Verne  Morton  for  his 
painstaking  efforts  in  taking  photo- 
graphs for  all  the  other  illustrations 
here  used. 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


BEECHES Frontispiece 

AMERICAN     ELM,     YOUNG     TREE     .     Opposite  1 

ELM    AND    SUGAR     MAPLES 2 

SUGAR      MAPLES 4 

THORN-APPLE 6 

BIRD     CHERRY 8 

SUMAC      . 10 

BLACK    OR    YELLOW    LOCUST 12 

LOMBARDY    POPLAR 14 

APPLE   TREE 16 

BLACK    WILLOW 18 

PUSSY     WILLOW 20 

SYCAMORE         22 

TAMARACK 24 

BEECH 26 

YELLOW    OR    RAY    BIRCH 28 

BLACK    ASH 30 

WHITE   ASH 32 

HEMLOCK          34 

WHITE     OAK 36 

SHAGBARK    HICKORY 38 

BUTTERNUT 40 

WHITE     PINE 42 

SNOW-COVERED    HEMLOCK 44 

FROSTED     BEECHES       .                                                           .  46 


TREES  AT  LEISURE 


At  no  other  time  of  year  is  the  American  elm 
more  beautiful  than  when  it  traces  its  grace- 
ful lines  against  snow  and  gray 


TREES  AT  LEISURE 


IF  we  could  know  the  part 
that  trees  have  played  in 
the  aesthetic  education  of  man, 
mayhap  we  should  find  that 
they  began  this  great  and  silent 
schooling  when  the  savage, 
weary  from  his  chase  in  the 
hot  sun,  sought  refuge  in  their 
refreshing  shade.  While  rest- 
ing there,  his  eyes  raised  to  the 
overhanging  branches,  there 
may  well  have  come  to  him  an 
uplift  into  the  vague  conscious- 
ness of  a  realm  of  beauty  as 
far  above  his  ken  as  the  branches 
and  shifting  leaves  were  above 

[9] 


In  sharp  contrast  to  the  benignant,  inviting 
curves  of  the  elm  are  the  self-centered  outlines 
of  the  isolated  sugar  maples. 


TREES     AT     LEISURE 

the  reach  of  his  hand.  Ages 
may  have  passed  before  man 
gained  sufficient  mental  stature 
to  pay  admiring  tribute  to  the 
tree  standing  in  all  the  glory  of 
its  full  leafage,  shimmering  in 
the  sunlight,  making  its  myriad 
bows  to  the  restless  winds;  but 
eons  must  have  lapsed  before 
the  human  eye  grew  keen  enough 
and  the  human  soul  large  enough 
to  give  sympathetic  comprehen- 
sion to  the  beauty  of  bare 
branches  laced  across  changing 
skies,  which  is  the  tree-lover's 
full  heritage. 

The  mortal  who  has  never 
enjoyed  a  speaking  acquaint- 
ance with  some  individual  tree 
is  to  be  pitied;  for  such  an  ac- 
quaintance, once  established, 
naturally  ripens  into  a  friendli- 
ness that  brings  serene  comfort 


Who  would  believe  that  a  granite-gray  column 
could  hold  a  store  of  sweetness! 


TREES     AT     LEISURE 

to  the  human  heart,  whatever 
the  heart  of  the  tree  may  or 
may  not  experience.  To  those 
who  know  them,  the  trees,  like 
other  friends,  seem  to  have  their 
periods  of  reaching  out  for  sym- 
pathetic understanding.  How 
often  this  outreaching  is  met 
with  repulse  will  never  be  told; 
for  tree  friends  never  reproach 
us, — but  wait  with  calm  pa- 
tience for  us  to  grow  into  com- 
prehension. 

In  winter,  we  are  prone  to 
regard  our  trees  as  cold,  bare, 
and  dreary;  and  we  bid  them 
wait  until  they  are  again  clothed 
in  verdure  before  we  may  accord 
to  them  comradeship.  How- 
ever, it  is  during  this  winter 
resting  time  that  the  tree  stands 
revealed  to  the  uttermost,  ready 
to  give  its  most  intimate  con- 

[13] 


The  low,  broad  thorn-apple  shows  a  fitting  frame- 
work for  the  great  bridal  bouquet  which  will 
cover  it  next  June. 


TREES     AT     LEISURE 

fidences  to  those  who  love  it. 
It  is  indeed  a  superficial  ac- 
quaintance that  depends  upon 
the  garb  worn  for  half  the  year ; 
and  to  those  who  know  them, 
the  trees  display  even  more 
individuality  in  the  winter  than 
in  the  summer.  The  summer  is 
the  tree's  period  of  reticence, 
when,  behind  its  mysterious  veil 
of  green,  it  is  so  busy  with  its 
own  life  processes  that  it  has 
no  time  for  confidences,  and 
may  only  now  and  then  fling  us 
a  friendly  greeting. 

The  recognition  of  trees  in 
the  season  of  winter  is  a  matter 
of  experience  and  may  not  be 
learned  from  a  book.  Often 
the  differences  that  distinguish 
them  are  too  subtle  to  be  put 
into  words.  However,  some  spe- 
cies portray  their  individuality 

[15] 


The  straight-limbed  bird  cherry. 


TREES     AT     LEISURE 

in  such  a  graphic  manner  that 
the  wayfarer,  though  a  fool, 
need  not  err  therein.  Such  is 
the  elm  that  graces  our  meadows 
and  fields,  where  it  marks  the 
sites  of  fences  present  and  past. 
At  no  other  time  of  year  is  the 
American  elm  more  beautiful 
than  when  it  traces  its  flowing 
lines  against  snow  and  gray 
skies.  Whether  the  tree  be 
young,  slender,  and  svelte  or 
grown  to  full  stature, — whether 
it  be  vase-  or  fountain-shaped,— 
there  is  in  its  dark  twig-fringed 
bole  a  grace  shown  in  up- 
ward expansion,  which  is  con- 
tinued in  the  uplift  of  spreading 
branches  and  finds  perfect  ex- 
pression in  the  final  twigs  that 
droop  as  if  in  loving  memory  of 
their  summer  burden  of  leaves, 
in  token  of  which  the  oriole's 

[17] 


The  sumacs,  like  bronze  candelabra,  hold  their 
dark  panicles  aloft. 


TREES     AT     LEISURE 

nest   is    tenderly   held    in    safe- 
keeping. 

In  sharp  contrast  to  the  be- 
nignant and  inviting  curves  of 
the  elm  is  the  self -centered  out- 
line of  the  isolated  sugar  maple. 
Even  this  tree  is  more  grace- 
ful in  winter  than  in  summer. 
It  displays  its  many  straight 
branches,  lifted  skyward  and 
ending  in  finely-divided  but  well- 
ordered  sprays;  while  earlier, 
it  was  merely  an  elongated  green 
period  that  served  to  punctuate 
the  summer  landscape.  Widely 
different  in  habit  is  the  great 
maple  of  the  woodland,  whose 
noble  bole  rises,  a  living  pillar, 
to  the  arches  that  uphold  the 
forest  canopy.  We  do  not  need 
to  look  up  to  its  high  branches 
to  know  it;  for  its  shining 
gray  color  and  a  certain  majesty 

[19] 


The  black  locust  retains  a  scanty  garment 
of  little  rustling  pods. 


TREES     AT     LEISURE 

of  mien  proclaim  at  once  its 
identity  and  its  place  as  a  peer 
in  the  forest  realm.  Who  would 
believe  that  a  granite-gray  col- 
umn could  hold  store  of  sweet- 
ness which  a  few  weeks  later  we 
may  have  for  the  asking!  The 
maple,  more  than  other  trees, 
seems  to  need  to  have  its  close- 
fisted  bushiness  pruned  away 
by  jealous  neighbors  to  make  it 
great  and  fine  and  generous. 
To  those  who  think  that  in 
winter  a  maple  is  simply  a  maple 
we  should  like  to  point  out  in 
contrast  to  the  tree  just  men- 
tioned, the  graceful,  smooth, 
gray-barked  red  maple,  that, 
true  to  its  name  keeps  its  bit 
of  winter  landscape  warm  with 
its  glow,  each  of  its  bud-laden 
twigs  a  ruddy  dreamer  of  scarlet 
past  and  crimson  future. 

[21] 


The  Lombardy  poplar,  a  spire  of  green 
against  summer  horizons,  is  now  a  vague 
wraith. 


TREES     AT     LEISURE 

But,  to  return  to  the  field, 
there  are  other  tree  tenants  of 
the  safe  fence  corners  that  are 
worth  knowing:  the  low  broad 
thorn-apple,  with  its  more  or 
less  horizontal  branches  divid- 
ing and  subdividing  into  a 
frenzy  of  twiglets,  shows  a  fit- 
ting framework  for  the  great 
bridal  bouquet  which  will  cover 
it  next  June;  the  straight- 
limbed  bird  cherry  with  its 
shining  bark,  perhaps  in  ragged 
transverse  rolls;  and  those  shrub 
cousins  of  the  trees,  the  sumacs, 
like  bronze  candelabra,  holding 
their  dark  pinacles  aloft,  black 
sockets  whence  once  blazed 
crimson  flame. 

Many  of  the  trees  planted  by 
man  for  man's  enjoyment  give 
as  good  returns  in  winter  as  in 
summer:  the  honey  locust  rear- 

[23] 


The  old  apple  tree  is  as  picturesque  as  any. 


TREES     AT     LEISURE 

ing  its  slender  height  protect 
ingly  above  the  homestead,  or 
above  the  memory  of  one,  its 
great  twisted  branches  making- 
picturesque  any  scene,  however 
homely,  its  maze  of  twigs  still 
holding  its  large  spirally  rolled 
pods,  which  will  in  due  time 
skate  away  over  icy  snowdrifts 
and  plant  their  seeds  far  from 
the  parent  tree ;  the  black  locust, 
less  picturesque,  seemingly  con- 
scious of  its  nakedness,  retain- 
ing a  scanty  garment  of  little 
rustling  pods,  until  spring  shall 
again  bring  to  it  its  exquisitely 
wrought  leaf  mantle;  the  horse- 
chestnut,  painting  itself  in  broad 
style  against  the  pearly  sky, 
its  sparse,  bud-tipped,  clumsy 
twigs  appearing  like  knobbed 
antennas  put  forth  to  test  the 
safety  of  the  neighborhood;  the 

[25] 


The  black  willow  appears  as  twins  or  triplets, 
in  close   confab   on  borders   of  streams. 


TREES     AT     LEISURE 

tall,  straight,  cut-leaved  birch 
with  its  central  column  of  white, 
and  white  branches  ascending 
stark  and  stiff  and  then  suddenly 
breaking  into  dark  fountains  of 
deliquescence ;  the  Lombardy 
poplar,  a  spire  of  green  against 
summer  horizons,  now  a  vague 
wraith  through  whose  transpar- 
ent form  we  can  see  the  sky 
and  landscape  beyond;  and,  as 
picturesque  as  any,  the  old  apple 
tree,  its  great  angularly  twisted 
branches  bearing  a  forest  of 
aspiring  shoots. 

The  stream  borders  give  us 
trees  of  strong  individuality. 
The  willows,  unwilling  even  in 
summer  to  be  taken  for  other 
tree  species,  assert  their  pecu- 
liarities quite  as  vigorously 
in  winter.  The  golden  osier 
displays  its  magnificent  trunk 

[27] 


The  little  pussy  wilhws  cuddle  contentedly 
under  their  snow  blanket. 


TREES     AT     LEISURE 

and  giant  limbs  upholding  a 
mass  of  terminal  shoots  that 
tinge  with  warm  ocher  the  win- 
ter landscape.  The  black  wil- 
low, having  cast  its  sickle  leaves 
to  the  autumn  winds,  lifts  itself 
in  twins  or  triplets,  or  even 
larger  families  of  sister  trees, 
that  stand  in  close  confab  on 
borders  of  murmuring  streams; 
while  the  little  pussy  willows 
gather  in  neighborly  groups  close 
to  living  brooks,  where  in  sum- 
mer they  shade  the  darting 
minnows  and  in  winter  cuddle 
contentedly  under  their  snow 
blanket  and  listen  to  the  con- 
tented gurgling  of  the  ice-bound 
waters. 

The  sycamore  loses  nothing  of 
its  effectiveness  when  it  loses  its 
foliage.  The  dull  yellow  of  the 
trunk  and  the  pale  gray  of  the 

[29] 


The  sycamore  is  overfond  of  the  reflections  of  its 
blotched  trunk  and  branches  in  the  still  pools  of 
streams. 


TREES     AT     LEISURE 

great  undulating,  serpent-like 
branches,  blotched  with  white, 
show  as  distinctly  against  the 
snow  as  they  did  against  the 
summer  green;  the  very  smooth- 
ness of  the  few  large  limbs 
makes  us  unprepared  for  the 
way  they  break  up  into  a  mad- 
ness of  terminal  branchlets,  to 
which  still  cling  here  and  there  a 
button-ball  not  yet  whipped  off 
its  fibrous  string.  How  different 
the  young  trees,  so  slender  and 
shapely,  and  overfond  of  re- 
flecting their  graceful  figures  in 
the  still  pools  of  streams!  It 
might  seem  that  the  stream 
guards  wear  a  uniform  of  khaki, 
in  evidence  of  which  behold  the 
slender  bole  of  the  great-toothed 
poplar  and  that  of  the  quaking 
aspen  which  has  shaken  off  its 
agitation  with  its  leaves,  and 

[31] 


The    tamarack   flaunts    its    jaundiced   spire 
against  the  sky. 


TREES     AT     LEISURE 

meets  the  winter  winds  with 
serene  courage;  and  likewise 
clad  is  the  cottonwood,  that 
guardian  of  western  rivers,  on 
which,  though  it  be  ragged  and 
unkempt,  the  traveler's  eye 
lingers  lovingly. 

Another  water-loving  tree, 
which  revels  in  swamps,  is  the 
pepperidge ;  extravagant  in  hori- 
zontal branches  and  twigs  when 
young,  it  stands  gaunt  and  bare 
when  old,  its  main  trunk  looking 
like  a  decrepit  mast  with  a  few 
dilapidated  yardarms  hanging 
to  it.  The  tamaracks  are  its 
neighbors;  in  summer  graceful 
lacy  cones,  they  now  flaunt 
their  scant,  jaundiced  spires 
against  the  blue  sky,  uncon- 
scious of  the  sad  picture  they 
make  in  their  coniferally  unnat- 
ural nakedness. 


The  beech  wears  the  crest  of  its  nobility  woven 
into  the  hues  of  its  firm  smooth  bark. 


TREES     AT     LEISURE 

In  the  forest  depths  in  winter, 
we  trust  more  to  the  shape  and 
color  of  the  bole  and  to  the  tex- 
ture of  the  bark  than  to  the 
branches  above  for  recognition 
of  old  acquaintances.  The  beech 
wears  the  crest  of  its  nobility 
woven  into  the  hues  of  its 
firm,  smooth  bark; — its  lower 
branches  retain  all  winter  many 
of  their  leaves,  russet  now  and 
sere,  whispering  lonesomely  to 
the  winds;  and  with  its  leaves 
it  retains  its  burrs,  empty  now 
of  nuts  and  hanging  in  constel- 
lations, quenched  and  black 
against  the  blue  of  the  zenith. 
Novices  often  confuse  the  trunk 
of  the  beech  with  that  of  the 
birch,  for  the  very  inadequate 
reason  that  both  may  be  trans- 
versely striped  with  white.  The 
beech's  stripes  are  woven  into 

[35] 


The   tatterdemalion  yellow  birch. 


TREES     AT     LEISURE 

the  texture  of  the  firm  fine- 
grained bark  and  are  as  unlike 
those  of  the  tatterdemalion 
birch  as  could  well  be  imagined. 
The  white  birch  coquettes  with 
us  with  her  untidy  silken  rib- 
bons from  the  forest  depths  in  a 
manner  which  a  self-respecting 
beech  would  scorn;  and  she 
is  not  the  only  one  of  her  kind 
that  wears  shining  ribbons,  al- 
though we  are  less  likely  to 
notice  the  darker  colors  of  the 
black  and  yellow  birches. 

In  all  the  woodland  there  is 
no  more  beautiful  bark  to  be 
found  than  that  which  pencils 
the  trunk  of  the  white  ash  in 
fine  vertical  lines  and  fades 
away  into  smoothness  on  the 
lower  limbs.  The  ash  branch- 
lets,  though  of  pleasing  lines, 
are  few  and  coarse;  those  of  the 

[371 


In  all  the  woodland  there  can  be  found  no 
more  beautiful  bark  than  that  which  pen- 
cils in  vertical  lines  the  trunk  of  the 
white  ash. 


TREES     AT     LEISURE 

white  ash  give  the  effect  of  being 
warped  into  terminal  curves. 
Contrast  the  bark  of  the  white 
ash  with  the  rugged  virile  bark 
of  the  hemlock  and  then  turn 
to  the  basswood's  straight  bole 
and  note  the  fine  elongated  net- 
work wThich  covers  it  and  learn 
to  greet  each  as  a  friend  well 
known  and  well  beloved! 

The  hornbeam,  or  blue  beech, 
ever  tries  to  tie  into  a  knot  its 
twisted  slender  branches;  often 
even  the  grain  of  the  wood  is 
hard  twisted,  so  that  the  close 
bark  shows  as  a  loose  spiral. 
One  wonders  if  it  is  because  of 
this  vital  writhing  that  the  sap 
which  slowly  oozes  from  the  tree 
in  spring  soon  turns  red  as 
blood.  Very  different  in  appear- 
ance is  her  sister,  the  hop  horn- 
beam, whose  slender  trunk  is 

[39] 


The  ash  branchlets,  though  of  pleasing  lines 
are  few  and  coarse. 


TREES     AT     LEISURE 

covered  with    narrow    flattened 
scales  that  flake  off  untidily. 

The  oak  cannot  be  spared 
from  the  winter  landscape.  It  is 
only  when  the  oak  stands  bared 
like  a  runner  for  a  race  that  we 
realize  wherein  its  supremacy 
lies.  We  have  made  it  a  synonym 
of  staunchness  and  sturdiness, 
but  not  until  we  see  naked  the 
massive  trunk  and  the  strong 
limbs  bent  and  gnarled  for 
thrusting  back  the  blasts,  can 
we  understand  why  the  oak  is 
staunch.  However,  there  are 
oaks  and  oaks,  and  each  one 
fights  time  and  tempest  in  its 
own  peculiar  armor  and  in  its 
own  brave  way.  The  red,  the 
scarlet,  and  the  black  oaks 
show  a  certain  ruggedness  as  of 
knotted  sinews  in  their  boles, 
and  their  dark  gray  bark,  irregu- 

[41] 


The  ragged,  virile   bark  of  the  hemlock. 


TREES     AT     LEISURE 

larly  furrowed,  changes  into  flat 
planes  above  and  smooths  out 
into  a  soft,  dark  gray  covering 
on  the  vigorous  though  twisted 
upper  branches.  The  bark  of 
the  white  oak  is  pale  gray, 
divided  by  shallow  fissures  into 
elongated  scales,  yet  withal  a 
dignified  dress  for  a  noble  tree. 
To  one  who  is  fortunate  enough 
to  have  had  a  Quaker  grand- 
father, the  white  oak  will  bring 
a  vision  of  him  arrayed  in  his 
First  Day  garb.  However,  there 
are  vast  differences  in  the  white 
oaks  of  America,  as  we  keenly 
realize  if  we  compare  the  con- 
servative white  oak  of  the  East 
with  its  erratic  picturesque 
sister  of  the  Pacific  Coast,  "pic- 
turesqueness  gone  mad,"  as  de- 
scribed by  an  artist  trying  to 
sketch  it. 

[43] 


It  is  only  when  the  oak  stands  bared  like  a  runner 
for  the  race  that  we  realize  wherein  its  supremacy 
lies. 


TREES     AT     LEISURE 

The  hickories  resemble  the 
oaks  except  that  they  are  more 
refined  and  less  virile;  their 
limbs  are  shorter  and  grace  is 
gained  as  strength  is  lost.  Each 
species  asserts  an  unmistakable 
individuality.  The  shagbark 
vaunts  the  superfluity  of  its  rai- 
ment; the  pignut  lifts  a  narrow 
oblong  head,  its  lower  branches 
gnarled  and  drooping;  less 
drooping  are  the  lower  branches 
of  the  mockernut  and  much 
more  rounded  its  outline,  while 
the  bitternut  bole  divides  into 
several  large  branches  that 
spread  and  form  a  broad  head. 
Those  cousins  of  the  hickories, 
the  black  walnut  and  the  butter- 
nut, attract  our  attention  by 
their  sparse  rather  coarse  ter- 
minal twigs.  The  wide  flattened 
ridges  of  its  deeply  furrowed 

[45] 


The  shagbark  hickory  vaunts  the  superfluity  of 
its  raiment. 


TREES     AT     LEISURE 

bark  distinguish  the  butternut 
and  often  suggest  the  long 
smooth  slats  that  hold  the  chest- 
nut bole  in  tight  embrace. 

No  winter  scene  is  perfect 
without  the  evergreens;  al- 
though these,  until  dead,  never 
display  to  our  curious  eyes  the 
history  of  their  struggles  for 
life,  as  written  on  their  naked 
branches;  yet  to  them  alone 
among  trees  has  a  voice  been 
given.  The  poet  has  often  been 
a  more  sensitive  listener  than 
seer  in  the  natural  world,  and 
from  the  earliest  times  he  has 
resung  for  his  fellow-men  the 
mysterious  song  of  the  pine. 

Although  our  evergreens  re- 
tain their  working  garb,  yet 
they  are  trees  of  fine  leisure 
during  the  months  of  frost 
and  ice;  and  whether  they  lift 

'[47] 


That  cousin  of  the  hickories,  the  butternut. 


TREES     AT     LEISURE 

their  mighty  heads  singly  above 
the  forest  level  or  group  them- 
selves in  green-black  masses, 
they  make  strong  the  composi- 
tion of  the  winter  picture. 
Nothing  brings  out  the  per- 
spective of  the  snow-covered 
hills  like  a  clump  of  great  hem- 
locks in  the  foreground;  and  the 
tassels  of  the  pine  are  never 
so  beautiful  as  when  tossed  in 
defiance  against  the  stormy  win- 
ter sky.  Brave  tree  folk  are 
these  conifers  of  ours,  whether 
their  span  of  life  extends  over 
three  centuries,  like  our  pines, 
or  twenty,  like  the  redwoods. 
They  give  us  a  wide  sense  of 
the  earth  as  an  abiding-place. 

On  some  winter  mornings 
even  the  most  careless  of  mortals 
must  pay  admiring  tribute  to 
the  trees,  for  again  are  they 

[49] 


The  tassels  of  the  pine  are  never  so  beautiful 
as  when  tossed  in  defiance  against  the 
stormy,  winter  sky. 


TREES     AT     LEISURE 

clad,  this  time  in  a  glittering 
raiment  of  soft  snow.  Such  a 
day  is  the  apotheosis  of  winter, 
and  one  must  needs  go  into  the 
still  forest  and  worship.  The 
stillness  is  commensurate  with 
the  whiteness.  The  trees  them- 
selves seem  conscious  of  it,  and 
rebuff  the  iconoclast  breeze  with 
their  slowly  and  silently  moving 
branches.  How  differently  the 
same  forest  meets  the  wind  a 
few  days  later  when  a  storm 
is  brewing!  Then  the  stiff 
branches  with  their  twig-sprays 
tear  the  howling  intruder  into 
whistling  shreds,  until  there  is  an 
all-pervading  roar  that  is  unlike 
any  other  of  nature's  sounds. 
It  might  well  be  compared  to 
the  surf  breaking  on  a  rocky 
shore,  if  it  were  not  that  it 
seems  overwhelming  instead  of 

[51] 


The   hemlock  under  its  glittering   burden   of  soft  snow. 


TREES     AT     LEISURE 

restless,  conquering  instead  of 
unceasing,  sentient  instead  of 
unaware. 

February  is  of  the  winter 
months  the  impressionist,  the 
colorist.  In  December  the  forest 
masses  on  the  hills  were  brown 
or  gray;  now  they  are  painted 
in  warm  purple  and  the  same 
royal  color  is  to  be  seen  in  the 
shadows  of  the  snowy  valleys 
through  a  veil  of  sapphire  haze 
that  brings  sky  and  forest  and 
white  hills  into  restful  unity. 
This  slowly  increasing  richness 
of  color  of  the  late  winter  in  our 
northern  landscapes  is  not  often 
appreciated.  Long  before  the 
frost  leaves  the  ground  and  the 
snow  slinks  away  from  the  hill- 
sides, the  impulse  of  the  warm- 
ing sun  is  caught  in  bark  and 
buds.  It  is  this  warm  tint  of 

[53] 


On  some  winter  mornings,  the  most  careless  of 
mortals  must  pay  admiring  tribute  to  the 
trees. 


TREES     AT     LEISURE 

the  forest  in  February  that 
brings  to  the  heart  the  first 
subtle  prescience  of  spring,  even 
before  the  chickadee  feels  it 
and  makes  the  still  woods  echo 
with  his  sweet  prophesying 
"phoabe"  song. 

Happy  is  he  who  keeps  his 
picture  gallery  always  with  him ; 
his  life  is  full  of  joy!  To  each 
of  us  is  given  a  sky  which  many 
times  a  day  is  painted  anew  for 
our  delectation;  and  it  is  never 
more  perfect  than  when  in  win- 
ter it  is  a  background  against 
which  the  trees  are  etched. 
Whether  the  horizon  be  crimson 
with  the  sunrise,  or  gold  with 
the  sunset;  whether  it  displays 
the  blue  of  the  turquoise  up- 
lifted into  the  color  of  the  rose 
on  snowy  mornings,  or  glows 
with  the  amethystine  splendor 

[55] 


TREES     AT     LEISURE 

of  afternoons  or  the  beryl  tints 
of  evening;  the  bare  branches 
strongly  outlined  against  it  in 
harmonious  contrast  complete 
the  color  chord; — with  infi- 
nitely varying  hues  the  trees 
there  illuminate,  and  with  ex- 
quisite and  intricate  writing  the 
trees  there  sign,  the  diplomas  of 
those  whom  they  have  educated. 


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LIBRARY,  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  DAVIS 

Book  Slip-50m-12,'64(F772s4)458 


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Corastock,  A.B. 
Trees  at  leisure 


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C6 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


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